


Grape Popsicle

by VforVitaly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VforVitaly/pseuds/VforVitaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has always hated the heat, and with his body image issues, taking his shirt off is not really an option, so he spends his summer finding clever ways around it, and when Danny notices some of Stiles' "techniques," he's not sure he can keep his feelings to himself anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grape Popsicle

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off the prompt: "Stiles complaining about it being too hot/finding creative ways to beat the heat."

Stiles and summer have never really gotten along all that well, and it's not because there's no school, and nothing to do - there's plenty to do, it's because it's hot. It's always so damn hot, and he hates the heat. He always has. He also hates taking off his shirt in public, because he's self conscious about his body, and that makes things like going to the pool or hiking shirtless, or going to the lake for the day a lot less fun.

The first thing he starts doing when it starts to get hot is carrying around his "fan," but it's more than a fan. It's a squirt bottle with propellers, so it not only fans you, but it squirts you with water - great for keeping cool, but in the California heat, it's really only a matter of time before the cool water becomes warm, and then it's no better than sweat, and Stiles hates sweat, because it's gross. It's also a really dorky thing to carry around, especially because it lives on a lanyard around his neck, but Stiles has long since given up on what people think about him, because he knows he's never going to be popular, and he'd rather be physically cool than socially cool. At least in the summer time.

Once school has let out, Stiles goes into the basement of his house and hauls out his summer "cooling system," because their air condition broke two years ago, and it's been ridiculously difficult to fix.

Stiles' "cooling system" consists of 8 fans. A box fan, which he puts in the window, two table top fans, which he puts on his desk and bedside table respectively, and 5 little fans, two of which he clips to the side of his bed, and the other three he uses duct tape to stick to his walls and ceilings. He has picked up these fans at garage sales for cheap over the last few years, but they get the job done, and he's glad for that. Last year, he shorted out the power, but this year, he was smarter and bought a surge protector.

In all, the process takes about an hour, but by the time he's done and has all the fans going, he feels much, much better, and can lie in his bed and have his first comfortable nap of the summer.

Work, however, is a different story. For the summer, Stiles has managed to procure a job at a coffee shop, and while it has air condition, it's not really air conditioned  _enough_ , at least not for him, so he essentially turns the freezer in the break room into a supply closet for ice packs, the big, long blue ones that are sort of bendy, all of which he has attacked straps to, and he straps one onto his back, swapping it out once it starts to melt, because the condensation on his back is no worse than the sweat would be, and hey, if he's going to look like he's sweating up a storm, he might as well be cool.

On his way home from work, Stiles always,  _always_ stops at the grocery store for a popsicle. They sell them individually, and since his jeep doesn't have air condition, it's a great means of keeping himself cool, at least until he can make it home to his den of fans. He goes in, buys one grape popsicle, and sits in his jeep.

Today, he's so hot, and a little hungry, so by the time he gets to his car, the popsicle is already halfway to his lips. Sometimes, in moments like these, Stiles forgets that the rest of the world exists, and he remembers that he is public only when he hears, and feels, a thud against the side of his jeep.

He looks out the window, eyes wide, to see Danny, lying on the ground, his bike next to him. He had been biking to the store to get something - he can't remember what, now, but was thrown off at the site of Stiles deep throating a popsicle. Even in California, one of the more "progressive" states, he still didn't expect to see that. Not from a boy, not in public.

"Oh my god, Danny, are you alright?!" Stiles leaps from the jeep, causing himself massive brainfreeze by shoving the rest of the popsicle in his mouth at once, chewing and swallowing it so that he can help his, well, not friend - classmate.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Danny pulls himself to his feet, his pride more wounded than his body, and picks up his bike.

"Well look, get what you're buying and I'll give you a ride home." Stiles is a little confused, because he knows that Danny has a car - and it's nicer than his car, AC and all. Then again, Danny is the kind of guy who would ride his bike to the store just for the work out, so he doesn't verbally question things.

"You don't have to do that," Danny states, looking at the ground, cheeks red, though it seems pretty clear that Stiles had no idea why Danny crashed his bike, and the goalie is glad that he's not asking.

"Hey, least I can do for, you know, parking my brightly colored jeep right in front of where you were riding your bike?" He furrows his brow, wondering for the first time how the hell this collision happened, because it's not like Stiles was in motion. "Why did you -"

"It's fine, I'll see you later." Not wanting to answer the question he knows is coming, Danny walks away, locks his bike up and enters the store. He lingers inside, partially because of the air conditioning, partially because he wants to wait until Stiles is gone before going back outside, but long after he gets home, he's still thinking about what he saw in the parking lot, and that night, despite his air conditioning, Danny's hot, and no number of fans will cool him down.

Two days later, Danny wanders into the coffeeshop where Stiles is working right as Stiles' shift is ending. His orders an iced coffee, and when he realizes that Stiles is getting off work, he mentions casually that he's going to the lake for a swim, and does Stiles want to come. Mostly, it's a thinly veiled attempt to get Stiles without his shirt on, because he hasn't stopped thinking about him since the popsicle incident, and because he knows Stiles is oblivious, he figures Stiles will never guess his true intentions. 

Despite his awkwardness around shirtless people, he agrees, because he has his swim trunks and an extra shirt in the back of his jeep, and he can go into the lake with a t-shirt on, unlike a swimming pool, where you have to spend like a hundred bucks to get the "fancy" kind of rash guard that he just can't afford right now. 

Stiles gets his stuff out of his jeep (they agree to go in Danny's car because of the air condition), and it's awkward the whole way there, because Stiles doesn't know what to say to Danny, and Danny can't think about Stiles without thinking about the way he looked with that popsicle.

When they get there, despite it being fairly crowded, they managed to find a secluded spot, and Danny, already sunscreened and ready to go, instantly pulls his shirt off and lays out a towel, Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses in place over his eyes, and Stiles can't help but gape. He's seen Danny shirtless in the locker room hundreds, maybe thousands of times, but he's never really looked before, not up close, and it's really, really fucking impressive.

He tugs awkwardly at hem of his own shirt, pulling it down as though stretching it will cover his own, scrawnier body, and hide him from view.

"Dude, it's a million degrees out," Danny states. 'Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm gonna check you out if you take your shirt off." Except, you know, he totally is.

"Oh, it's not that, I forgot my sunscreen, and I don't wanna burn." Stiles is lying. It's in his bag, with his extra shirt.

"Oh, no problem." Danny gets up and reaches into his own backpack, tossing Stiles his own.

"I uh...I can't use this," Stiles says instantly. "I'm allergic, I have to use a special kind." Okay, that's a lie, too, but he really, really doesn't want to take his shirt off in front of Danny, and Danny, seeing no reason why Stiles would be lying to him, lets it go.

After about an hour of swimming and lying in the sun – mostly dozing in and out of over-heated naps, Danny asks Stiles if he has anything to eat, and Stiles, too lazy to get up, mentions he has carrot sticks in his bag left over from his lunch, and that Danny can have them if he wants.

Danny opens the bag and finds not only the carrot sticks, but the sunscreen, which happens to be the same kind that he has. He sets it back down, gulping, because he, incorrectly, assumes that Stiles is self conscious about removing his shirt because Danny is gay, and he doesn’t want Danny to “perv” on him.

“Um, you know what? I forgot I have this thing I have to do tonight, so I uh…I actually gotta get going. I’ll give you a ride back.” Danny returns the carrot sticks to Stiles’ bag, and starts pulling his things together.

Stiles, however, while oblivious to all things involving himself, is pretty good at reading other people, and he can tell that Danny is upset. He wonders what he did to get that kind of reaction out of him, and as he’s packing his stuff up, he sees the sunscreen, and it clicks.

“Danny, I wasn’t…I wasn’t lying to you about the sunscreen because I’m like, homophobic or anything, I’m not!” Stiles instantly feels the need to defend himself, but realizes, once he’s said that, that he’s going to have to give the real reason, and that just makes him feel ridiculously sick to his stomach with body image issues.

“It’s okay, Stiles, I’m used to guys not wanting to be around me, you know, partially clothed.”

“No, but it’s not that,” Stiles insists.

“Then what is it?” Danny asks, turning to Stiles, his shirt half on – it’s over his head, and one arm is through the sleeve the other still bare, so Stiles has a great view of Danny’s rock hard abs.

“It’s that…I’m…I’m sort of…” he looks down, tugging at the hem of his shirt again, his cheeks flushing red, this time from embarrassment and not the sun, and suddenly, Danny sees it.

“You’re self conscious,” Danny finishes for him, his voice soft.

“Um, yeah…” Stiles nods, still not making eye contact.

“Why?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, because he’s always thought Stiles was adorable, and recently, he’s been thinking about him as, well, more sexually viable, than merely adorable.

“Well because I just…you know, I don’t look like you and Scott and Jackson and them.” He shrugged. “I look more like Greenberg.”

“Okay, first off, you look _nothing_ like Greenberg,” Danny insists, and that gets a small, shy, ~~fucking adorable~~ , smile out of Stiles. “Second, you don’t have to look like us, Stiles. It’s okay for people to have different body types, as long as you own it, that’s what counts.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?” Danny asks, hands on his hips.

“I just think that, you know, my body type…it’s not exactly attractive,” he mutters under his breath. Hell, he’d never expected to have this conversation, not with Danny, of all people.

“Oh see, now that’s where you’re wrong.” Danny smiles at him, wondering how someone as smart, hard working, cute, and funny as Stiles can be so damn insecure.

“What?” Stiles looks up at Danny, making eye contact with him for the first time in several minutes.

“I think you’re attractive,” Danny states, putting himself out there, because he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it will help Stiles face what Danny is starting to realize are at least mild body image issues.

“You don’t have to say that just because-” Stiles is cut off as Danny moves forwards, kissing him.

At first, Stiles is stunned, and then he’s kissing Danny back, losing himself in those lips and those strong arms for almost five whole minutes before he remembers who he is and what’s going on.

“Whoa, that was…” Stiles gulps, smiling up at Danny. “Did you do that because…”

“Because I’m into you,” Danny admits, and it’s his turn to look awkwardly at the ground, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Oh, wow, I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t need you to be into me back or anything, I just wanted you to know, and to believe that you’re attractive, Stiles.”

“No, I’m…I’m into you,” Stiles smiles, reaching out, this time initiating the kiss, his self confidence higher than it’s been in years, maybe his entire fucking life.

“Good, well then…” Danny smirks, tugging at Stiles’ shirt. “Take this off, and we can have another quick swim before we leave.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” Stiles looks down at his shirt, thinking that Danny won’t like him anymore, not when he sees what’s really under it, but Danny doesn’t take “no” for an answer, and after some coaxing, and a couple more kisses, Stiles turns around, taking his shirt off, followed by a couple of deep breaths before he turns and faces Danny.

Stiles is pale. He doesn’t have abs, and he’s slender, but just a touch squishy, right at the belly. You wouldn’t see him modeling for Calvin Klein, and you wouldn’t catch him anywhere near an Abercrombie & Fitch campaign, but Danny thinks he’s gorgeous, and as he’s pulling him into the water, he tells him so. Stiles blushes, and dives under, feeling, for the first time in ages, cool water against his torso, with no t-shirt in the way.

The boys swim for about half an hour more before getting out. The sun’s going down, and while it’s still warm, they have to get back before it’s too late, because Stiles has work the next morning.

“I’ll drive you back to your car,” Danny promises, loading his things into his trunk. “And maybe on the way back, we can stop for a popsicle.”

He turns, smiling at Stiles, and Stiles leans in, kissing Danny softly.

It’s hard, Stiles learns that summer, to beat the heat when you have another body constantly pressed against your own, but because it’s Danny, and this is Stiles’ first summer romance, he finds away to be okay with it, and besides. Danny’s room has air conditioning.

**Author's Note:**

> I had A LOT of fun writing this, so I hope you had fun reading it! <3


End file.
